


Captured: The Z14 Incident

by LunarC



Series: The Link Between Us [1]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: A prologue to a possible series, Action, Adventure, F/F, Implied Relationships, M/M, Mind Link, Mind Meld, Slow Build, Spock and the Doctor captured, eventual understanding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-26
Updated: 2015-12-26
Packaged: 2018-05-09 12:12:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5539517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LunarC/pseuds/LunarC
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While investigating a distress signal on a class M planet. The landing party is attacked by an unknown party. Spock and McCoy are taken and must band together to protect one another during their capture. In order to escape they initiate a mind meld and form a mental link between them that will change each other's understanding and their very friendship...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in 2 days. It is my first Spones chapter fic and the first Star Trek fic I have posted online!
> 
> I wanted to write a fan fiction with a story with subtle Spones themes without over doing it.  
> This may also end up a series, as I wanted to establish a link between these two and slowly build on it. Especially on Spock's side. 
> 
> I also did very little editing on this one, pardon that.
> 
> Let me know what you think!

They were in deep space, far from the familiar and protected waters of Federation Space, when a curious message from a class M planet known as Z14 was relayed to Uhura. It was a distress signal, calling for help and medical supplies. Relaying that the ship below had crashed and its crew was struggling to survive, dead in the water on an inhospitable and harsh dessert planet.

Unable to ignore such a plea for help Captain Kirk assembled a landing party, comprised of Dr McCoy, three of his brightest medics, two security personnel, science officer Spock and Jim himself. 

They beamed down and were met immediately with harsh, dessert winds. Prepared, the landing party wrapped their Starfleet issue sand storm uniforms tighter around their faces and trudged towards the crash site. 

It was a 10 minute hike before the debris of an old ship, origin difficult to tell in the stinging orange wind which partly blinded the crew, jutted out between the boulders and cliffs of the planet’s surface. 

“Let’s get inside,” Jim said, “Spock, can you see a way in?”

“Yes Captain,” Spock said, pointing to an open cargo bay entrance, which Jim had missed in the sand storm sweeping around them, “In there.”

“Lead on, Mr Spock,” Jim said and the landing party followed Spock into the large downed ship.

They entered the ship and found it mostly intact, but old. Scans with the tricorder found the ship to be almost 100 years old in fact. Far older than they had anticipated. 

“Fascinating,” Spock said quietly, while Jim and the landing party pushed on, looking for the control room and the source of the distress call. 

“What is?” Bones said, grumpily. His face mask filter draped around his neck and brow creased in a frown. The ghost ship gave the doctor chills and not just because of the howling of the bitter wind outside. His intuition was prickling, something not fitting right about the place, though he couldn’t put his finger on exactly why.

“Asides from the obvious age of this vessel secondary scans show that the estimated time of the crash is between 5-7 years from the current date.” Spock replied.

“So we’re a bit late, is what you’re saying?” Bones said. Wondering morbidly when they would stumble upon the remains of the poor crew who had sent out the SOS signal in the first place.

“That is the intriguing part, Doctor.” Spock went on, “This ship’s model, though hard to pinpoint, is very old. However the broadcast signal was relayed on a frequency which has been utilised regularly only in the past 2 years…”

“… So you’re saying the signal is too recent to have been sent from this ship?” Bones asked. 

Spock nodded, head bent over his tricorder, “I will need more information before I can make a more educated hypothesis. But in short Doctor, something simply doesn’t add up.”

“Yeah, I feel that too.” Doctor McCoy said, rubbing his arms. “Let’s go tell Jim, I don’t want to be down here for any longer than we have to if there is no one who needs us.”

“Indeed.” Spock replied as the pair went to catch up with the other members of the landing party. 

As they did however there was a loud screaming sound, the high pitched whine of some kind of claxon that rang out through the ship. Doctor McCoy clapped his hands over his ears and Spock fell against the bulk head. The cry of what must have been some kind of bomb wrung, painfully through McCoy as he stumbled over to Spock, grasping him by his shoulders. The Doctor called out the Vulcan’s name as the tall man leant, unresponsive and eyes closed against the side of the ship. 

After a few seconds, where McCoy, deafened but amazing under pressure, ran his tricorder over Spock and administered a hypo to wake him from his induced unconsciousness. Spock’s eyes sprang open and he stood immediately upright, wavering a little on his feet before regaining his balance.

Once upright Spock extricated himself from the Doctor’s arms, waving away his concerns and the pair ran to catch up with the Captain. 

They finally managed to find the landing party where they lay, silent and unconscious, around a device which the crew must have interacted with-initiating the loud scream. The Captain was slumped over one of the medical team, where he had very likely leapt to protect them from what he must have assumed would be an incendiary device. 

“Captain, Captain!” Bones said, rolling the Captain from atop his medical officer, but Kirk was unresponsive. 

Behind him Spock was checking the landing party; their vital signs were fine, simply unconscious. While Bones attempted to administer a hypo spray to the Captain to wake him in the same manner he had Spock the Vulcan flipped open his communicator.

“Spock to Enterprise,” He said. 

“This is the Enterprise, Spock, what happened?” Uhura said, “I was talking to the Captain then there was this noise-“

“There has been an incident,” Spock said, “I believe we may have been the target of some kind of trap. The landing party has been knocked unconscious except for Doctor McCoy and myself. Requesting instant extraction via the transporter beam for the landing party. As well as medical personnel on standby after beam up.”

There was a pause over the com while Uhura relayed the message. 

“Understood. Standby for extraction, Mr Spock,” Uhura finally replied.

Spock nodded to himself, then flipped the communicator closed. Bones was still checking over the Captain, who remained unmoving. He glanced up at Spock, taking a step away from the man. 

“What happened, Spock?” Bones asked, “Are we under attack?” He hissed. 

“It is impossible to tell, Doctor.” Spock replied, dropping to his knees and examining the device which had caused such distress. “We will discuss it further on board the ship.” 

“You’re damn right we will,” Bones said, crossing his arms as the Captain and the rest of the landing party around them began to disappear in the light of the transporter beam.

Seconds later, as the air where the landing party had just been began to settle, Spock’s communicator went off. Spock flipped it open, a strange feeling of dread which he pushed down settling over him as the Captain dematerialised from view.

“Commander Spock here,” He said.

“Commander!” Uhura’s voice said, signal suddenly far choppier than before, “Three unidentified ships have appeared on our scanners, we have tried hailing them but they have opened fire.”

Beside Spock, McCoy’s eyes opened wide. Spock remained outwardly unaffected, though inwardly his mind raced. 

“And the landing party?” Spock asked.

“They’ve arrived safely,” Uhura replied urgently, just as the sound of something making contact in the background rang through the communicator. The sound of the Enterprise being attacked.

“Understood.” Spock said.

“Commander, we can’t beam you up until the skirmish is over,” Uhura said. 

Spock and McCoy looked at each other, expressions blank. The only thing worse than hearing the Enterprise was being attacked was being unable to do anything to help.

“Understood, Lieutenant,” Spock said. “Please inform Mr Sulu that he has the con in the absence of the Captain or myself.”

“Yes sir.” Uhura said, “We’ll be in touch.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant.” Spock said. Then closed his communicator. Bones was staring at where the Captain had been moments earlier, face white. 

“So it was a trap.” Bones said. 

“Indeed.” Spock replied. He looked around, then dropped to the device again, checking it over to try and decipher its make and origin. It was strange technology to him, though some of the pieces seemed to be cobbled together from similar alloys used in Vulcan ships.

Bones watched Spock, then paced, ringing his hands together.

They worked in silence side by side until Bones finally, emotionally, exploded.

“Damn it Spock! What are we going to do? The Enterprise could be blown to bits by now and we’re just-sitting on our hands!” The Doctor shouted as Spock bent over the ship’s old console, seeing if it was salvageable.

Spock straightened, ever calm and tilted his head, surveying the Doctor. 

“Doctor, this is no time to become emotional.” Spock responded.

“Emotional? Emotional!” Bones slammed his hands on the console in front of Spock, glaring at him, anger born of concern. Spock knew. It had been aimed at him many times. “This is exactly the right time to get emotional! All of our friends are up there, Spock! And we’re stuck down here, doing nothing! Doesn’t that make you mad?”

Spock raised an eyebrow and considered the emotion. He didn’t allow himself to feel it, however.

The Doctor had opened his mouth to continue his tirade when Spock silenced him. The unfamiliar sound of an alien transporter beam disturbing them. McCoy’s eyes widened and Spock immediately took the Doctor by his shoulders, guiding him to a grate under the floor of the console and prying it off. The Doctor, catching onto Spock’s thinking, lowered himself inside, while Spock glanced between the Doctor and approaching footsteps. 

Spock considered attempting to jump inside as well, but knew it was too late as he stared down at the Doctor who was making room for Spock and looking up at him expectantly. Spock picked up the pried off grate and dropped it back into place. Lodging it so that the Doctor, who was whispering, violently, at Spock, could not dislodge it without an extreme exertion of strength. 

The good Doctor cried out to Spock as he straightened. Phaser set to stun. 

“Spock, please-“

“Be silent, Doctor.” Spock whispered, before slipping behind a pylon as the invaders appeared in the door way. 

There was utter quiet as the strangers stood in the doorway. McCoy lay perfectly still under the floor and Spock held his breath behind the pylon. 

“We know you’re in here,” A female voice said. Spock guessed the age of the speaker to be around his own, her accent hard to pin down. But not Terran. “We tracked your landing party. We know that two stayed.”

Still silence followed.

“Drop your weapons and surrender and we will not harm you.” The female voice went on, “Refuse to do so and we will use whatever force necessary.”

Spock glanced over at where McCoy was hiding mentally imploring the Doctor to stay hidden. His own chances of resisting capture were slim. But the Doctor might just make it out if he remained hidden. 

“… Alright,” The female said, “We will do it your way then.”

There were footsteps and then two humanoids appeared in the corner of Spock’s peripherals, moving towards the control console. A third appeared closer to Spock, moving just past his hiding spot. The man turned and locked eyes on Spock, who leapt at him. Grabbing the man’s shoulder and knocking him out with a Vulcan nerve pinch. The other two leapt at Spock, one swinging a crude club at his left side as he raised his phaser. He blocked it, Spock’s own phaser knocked from his hand, but wasn’t prepared for the punch of phaser fire which knocked him back against the aged console behind him.

Spock gasped, laying prone back against the bench, before he was roughly dragged and dropped to the floor. Only a few breadths from where McCoy lay, cringing, beneath the floor. 

He was forced to his knees. The phaser fire not enough to stun him, it’s make clearly older than Starfleet standard issue. His own phaser was snatched up by one of the strangers and out of reach. 

The woman, dressed in ragged, beige and leather clothing. Towered over Spock. Long black hair curled behind her head. An air of authority all about her person and a very large weapon held across her torso in two hands.

Panting heavily at the onslaught Spock almost missed the points of her very Vulcan-like ears.

The woman didn’t smile, but it was a near thing. 

“A Vulcan, how refreshing.” She said. Spock elected not to respond. Instead glancing at the woman’s comrades, a motley crew comprised of an Andorian, an Orion and humans. “Where is your friend?” She asked.

“I have none.” Spock replied. The woman stared at him, dark eyes calculating.

“Do not lie to me, Vulcan.” She said. “It’s unbecoming of your race.”

“Vulcans cannot lie.” Spock replied, while the crew about him glared at him meanly.

“Tell me where the other is.” The woman said. “Or I will scour this ship until I find them.”

Spock stared at the woman, betraying nothing, until her brow quirked and she slapped him, viciously, across the face. Her strength enough to knock Spock sideways slightly. She grabbed Spock by his ear, grip brutal on the sensitive part of the Vulcan’s body and kept him off balance.

“Tell me where they are.” She said and Spock knew now that she was no Vulcan, but a Romulan, as no Vulcan was capable of such violence as Spock felt now. Her touch sent with it a flurry of deadly and threatening emotion. Her telepathy battering Spock’s mental shields with a cruel and horrible will. 

He wished, more than anything, to be free of her touch where it burnt him like a physical pain. But forced himself to betray nothing at all, face stoic, while she tested him.

“I will not.” Spock growled.

The battery continued, her finger nails digging half moons into the skin behind Spock’s ear before she finally released him. Stepping back and almost-smiling again, a quirk of the lip that would have been barely noticeable to anyone else but Spock.

“Vulcan endurance, formidable. You’ll be a valuable asset.” She said strangely. Spock frowned as the woman turned to her crew.

“Search this room. They’re here somewhere. They wouldn’t have split up.” Her eyes locked back onto Spock then. “You will come with me.” She flipped open her communicator and ordered whoever was on the other end to beam them up. 

Spock only had seconds to glance at where McCoy was hiding before he felt himself disappear in a flurry of light and atoms...


	2. Chapter 2

Spock reappeared in a transporter room aboard a very Romulan ship. He realised now that the alloy he had recognised in the device below had been at least partly of Romulan design and cursed himself for not noticing it sooner.

Any attempt he might have made to evade further imprisonment was quickly squashed by the presence of three other armed men. Who saluted the woman as she appeared, nodding to them and forcing Spock to stand with her weapon to his back.

“Take this one to the brig. We leave orbit once the other has been found. Intensify the fire on the Enterprise. I want them distracted.” She said.

“Yes Captain,” One man said, before departing for the bridge. She turned to Spock then, eyes like those of a predatory feline. Hungry, as if daring Spock to show a sign of weakness for her to pounce on.

Spock showed none.

He was escorted to the brig, his belt, communicator and other belongings taken from him before he was placed inside. It was a scratched up cell, leading Spock to believe that he was definitely not the first to be placed inside of it against his will. After that he was left alone. 

He tested every panel, on the walls, the floor and ceiling but could find nothing which would aid him in his escape. Unable to act, Spock sat in the center of his cell. Closing his eyes and meditated. 

He was into his second hour, working through the events of the day and cataloging information on this savage crew when familiar yelling woke him from his trance. Moments later, Doctor McCoy was bodily dragged toward his cell, struggling like his very life depended on it. A ruddy bruise colouring on the Doctor’s cheek and temple.

“Let me go you damn morons!” McCoy yelled, Spock stood, as a code was punched into the cell’s interface and the energy field imprisoning Spock dropped temporarily. Spock lunged for the captors, but they were faster. One hitting Spock with an energy blast that knocked him against the opposing wall, and onto his knees. 

McCoy was thrown in beside Spock, stumbling into the wall and practically spitting at their jailers as the ‘door’ was closed again. The devious crewmen sneering at them. 

Glaring at where the men had been McCoy turned immediately to Spock. Whose body was still thrumming and twitching a little, painfully, from the force of the blast. 

“Spock, are you alright?” McCoy asked, kneeling beside Spock and checking him over. Light touches turning Spock’s head to look at the small cuts left on his scalp by the vicious female captain and the dried blood from where his lip had split when she struck him.

“Quite, Doctor, just a little battered.” Spock replied truthfully. Drawing back, politely, from the pokes and prods. McCoy dropped his hands to his knees staring at Spock meaningfully, expression cautious then murderous. 

“Those bastards,” He hissed, “They found me about half an hour ago. Pretended the Enterprise had been destroyed to trick me into attempting to escape on my own. Used my own damn emotions against me, like some fool!” McCoy said. Looking strangely guilty for some reason.

Spock took pity on the good Doctor. Could only imagine what the man would’ve done at the thought of the demise of the Enterprise and its crew which Bones loved so passionately.

“Their Captain is a Romulan,” Spock said, making Bones look up, “It would not surprise me if she was well versed in psychological tactics. You should not be ashamed Doctor.”

Bones swallowed, looking down for a moment and rubbing the back of his neck while he settled more comfortably on his haunches. “Somehow you saying that makes me feel like we’re in even more trouble than I had thought.” He said.

Spock was about to answer when he felt the ship they were trapped in go into warp drive. The Doctor was flung into Spock, who braced an arm against the wall and around the man. Keeping them from being thrown around the room. 

Over the intercom the female Romulan’s voice rang out. 

“We have entered Warp Space. The Starfleet vessel continues to battle our drones above Z14. We expect to reach our destination in 0300 hours.”

“Drones…” Bones whispered, after he had successfully untangled himself from Spock. “They’re fighting unmanned ships.”

“Indeed,” Spock said, “I believe this ship may have a Romulan cloaking device in place which even the Enterprise may struggle to pick up.”

“So…” Bones started, the colour draining from his face, “You’re saying they may not have even noticed that we were captured?”

“I believe so.” Spock said.

McCoy was sheet white. He sat beside Spock, his back pressed to the bulk head. 

“What do they want with us, Spock?” McCoy asked, “Why battle a Starfleet ship for two men?”

“I’m not sure, Doctor.” Spock replied, ignoring where their shoulders touched, an unconscious human gesture on the Doctor’s behalf to search for comfort in the face of the unknown. 

\--

They didn’t get their answer for almost 3 hours, when the pair were unceremoniously dragged from their cell, forced to change their clothing and brought before the Romulan Captain in an interrogation style room. Separated from the woman by a large sheet of glass.

“You’re probably wondering why we captured you,” The woman said. “I imagine you have a few ideas, Commander Spock.”

Spock did not blink at her knowledge of his rank. Certain she had been listening in to the communications between himself and the Enterprise after the Captain and the landing party had been beamed up on Z14’s surface.

“For a ransom.” Spock responded, McCoy stopped glaring at the Captain to stare at Spock. “This is a pirated vessel, in dire need of repairs. You set a trap on that planet and relayed your message on known Starfleet frequencies. In half an hour or so we will be transported to a larger ship, perhaps within your armada and our coordinates, and your demands, will be sent to the Enterprise.”

The Romulan Captain’s smile grew as Spock spoke. Eyes glowing with that same hungry, predatory, look.

“Nothing gets by you, does it, Mr Spock?” She said.

“The predictable nature of criminals is rarely sophisticated.” Spock replied smoothly. 

The woman’s smile barely faltered, though Spock’s insult was clear. Even McCoy stopped glaring for a moment to stare at Spock, half a smirk on his face.

“You insult my intelligence, Mr Spock.” The woman said.

“I made an observation.” Spock responded. “Your perception of it is your own.”

The woman’s smile faded and the dangerous stare in its place chilled Doctor McCoy where he stood. Beside him, Spock suppressed a shiver.

“I’ve always found Vulcan’s to be fascinating, if a little repressed.” She said quietly. “Of course Romulans and Vulcans share a long lost blood line, a fact I’m sure is not lost on you Commander. However, even respect based on fascination only lasts so long in the face of a truly unpleasant individual.”

Spock’s eyebrow raised, the threat quite clear. “On that alone, we agree.”

“Spock,” McCoy mumbled warningly under his breath. Not wishing for Spock to push this woman.

“You are wrong though,” The woman continued, “I am not taking you to an armada. I am taking you to a port.” Spock frowned in response.

“There are no cataloged Ports this far from Federation space.” He said.

“None that Star Fleet is aware of.” The woman said. “I am only telling you this, Commander Spock, as your own life and the life of your Doctor now rests squarely in the behavior you exhibit in the coming 24 hours. Once I have passed you into the hands of the buyer you are their property, to do with as they wish. They may not be as forgiving in the face of rebellion as myself and my crew.”

“Why are you warning us?” Bones asked. 

The woman turned from Spock for the first time, locking her dark, cold eyes on the man and making him feel very small.

“Consider it a compassion born of begrudging admiration.” She said. “When next we meet there will be no time for talking. Travel well.”

The next moment a nauseous gas was poured into the room. McCoy was the first to fall, gasping, as he pounded against the glass, cursing the Romulan Captain. Spock caught him before the man could injure himself. Lowering the Doctor to the floor. He held his breath for longer, staring at the Captain through the glass and memorising her face and searching for clues as to what ship they were on board and what Port they were going to. She watched him in return, pressing a hand, to where his was pressed to the glass in a crude imitation of the Ta’Al. 

Spock allowed himself one emotional glare before he too fell to the floor, unconscious. 

\--

When they woke they were both in cuffs. Spock was knelt beside McCoy, who remained unconscious on the floor of a heavily decorated and gaudy room. At the center of which sat two very tall, very well dressed Orions. 

The taller of the two, a male, had their gaze currently resting on the Romulan Captain who stood, proudly amongst her crew before Spock.

“… Walked into our trap on Z14, their ship is heavily armed and looks to be…” Spock found himself drifting in and out of consciousness, struggling to remain lucid while the Romulan woman spoke.

“Enough Rosena.” The Orion spoke up in a low growl. Beside him, his second in command, another Orion with glowing green skin was watching Spock carefully. She reached out and touched her partner’s arm gently. Prompting him. “Name your price.”

The Romulan inclined her head, then had one of her crew hand the Orion a pad with a ‘price’ written upon it. The Orion stared at it, then passed the pad to his partner, whose eyebrows rose. 

“We will pay you two thirds of that price, no less and no more.” The Orion woman said. 

The Romulan Captain’s posture stiffened as Spock watched, pretending to still be struggling with consciousness.

“In all Fairness, Durak, Velia, that would barely cover the cost of the loss of one of our drones. We have lost two.”

“Your personal affairs are none of our business,” Durak, the male Orion countered. “You have no proof of their rank asides from some tricorders and battered uniforms. How do we know these are even worth what you say they are? Or that we are not simply buying a human and Vulcan slave?”

Beside Spock, McCoy began to stir. Leaning into Spock’s side where they were knelt beside each other. Spock leant into the CMO, trying to convey comfort through mere presence alone in a very human gesture, without betraying his consciousness.

The Romulan Captain Rosena, bristled.

“I have recorded audio of their interactions with Communications Officer aboard their ship-“ She said.

The male Orion, Durak, held up a hand, lowering his head.

“We will pay two thirds.” He said, finally.

There was a silence, where McCoy took a deep breath and seemed to startle slightly, his cheek pressed deeply into Spock’s shoulder. He murmured something in Terran, breaking the silence.

Rosena turned to her prisoners, glaring at Spock, who met her gaze for a moment before she frowned, crossing her arms firmly across her chest.

“I am selling you a Vulcan and a medical Officer, you will pay me at least 1,000 credits more or I will find another buyer.”

The Orions stared at the Romulan Captain before the female Orion turned to the male one, nodding. The male, Durak turned to Rosena, nodding, with a sigh.

“Fine, consider this verbal contract binding.”

The Romulan Captain nodded. 

Moments later, as McCoy groggily spoke Spock’s name the two were manhandled onto their feet by two Orions. McCoy struggled where Spock remained limp and cumbersome, watching the Romulan Captain who had turned to watch her prisoners go.

Her eyes fixed on Spock’s, who watched her, deliberately. The woman smirked, as if sharing some inside joke with Spock, before turning away and leaving the room. 

Moments later Spock, McCoy and the Orion crew were transported aboard a giant Orion slaver ship.

\--

“Spock,” McCoy said, his face pressed, deeply creased, against the bars of an Orion cell. 

In the cell beside McCoy, Spock sat directly beside him. Staring at the walls around him. He had already tried the bars and found them frustratingly efficient. Not a design flaw in sight. Pity.

“Yes, Doctor.” Spock said.

“Where… Where are we?” The Doctor said drunkenly. The gas which had been used to knock them out on the Romulan ship far more effective on his human body than on the Vulcan’s and taking a lot longer to wear out.

“We are aboard an Orion Slaver’s ship and the official property of an Orion named Durak and his second in command, Velia.” 

McCoy’s eyes widened at that and he attempted to sit himself up straighter, hands scrabbling around the bars. He held his head, grimacing.

“How long have I been out?” He asked.

“Approximately 5 hours.” Spock replied. “We have been aboard this ship 3 of those.”

McCoy frowned, grimacing at Spock, “My head feels like they’ve been dancing on it.”

“A side effect of the gas used to sedate us, Doctor,” Spock said, “It will abate in time.”

“… Spock,” McCoy said, their sides touching through the bars that separated them. Spock allowed the touch, turning to McCoy out of the corner of his eye. “Is there any news of the Enterprise?”

Spock avoided McCoy’s hopeful look. Focusing instead on the door of his cell like it was intensely interesting.

“None so far, Doctor.” Spock said. 

McCoy’s face fell and he leant himself heavier against the bars, facing his own wall. 

“Oh.” He said. Spock turned to McCoy, but said nothing. A strange human desire to touch the other threatening him at Bones’ sad expression. He pushed it down. 

They were kept in their separate cells, alone and with very little supervision except for the occasional guard for an entire day. McCoy grew agitated after the first hour and grew steadily more and more worried and aggravated as time passed.

Spock calculated their chances of being rescued by the Enterprise. They were admirable in the beginning, but as the hours waxed they become more and more dire. Until they slipped into the negative. 

He didn’t inform Doctor McCoy.

“We have to get out of here, Spock,” McCoy said, “What if the Enterprise is in danger? We have to contact the Federation and tell them about this operation!” 

“Indeed,” Spock agreed, “How do you suggest we escape?” He humoured.

McCoy stopped pacing in his cell (an activity he had been pursuing for the past hour) and looked around. “… Maybe one of us could pretend to be injured, then rush ‘em when they come in.”

Spock thought on it for a moment, but shook his head. “These are slavers, Doctor. They are used to such tricks.” Spock said. “It would be dangerous for us to incite their anger.”

McCoy’s face dropped, brow drawn tight. He growled. “Well, then what are your plans, Spock?” 

Spock thought on it, going over the different scenarios he had been contemplating over the last few hours.

“… There is a jagged piece of stone, sticking out from the corner of your cell.” McCoy turned, seeing the jutting point. “If you were to knock it loose it could be used as a knife. With it, I could draw enough blood to convince the Orions that I was properly injured while going into a healing trance. Then you could convince them that only you knew the remedy to my malady. Ensuring that we were kept together during the event. After, when it is safe, I could recover consciousness.”

McCoy turned back to Spock, eyes widening. “You’re going to cut yourself? Isn’t that a bit extreme?”

Spock frowned. “These are slavers, Doctor. Without blood they will assume a trick.”

Bones shook his head. “No, I don’t want you doing that. I don’t want you harming yourself.”

Spock frowned, surely a little pain was worth their freedom, he said as much, but McCoy was uneasy on the subject and he let it drop. 

“Couldn’t you just-I don’t know, pretend to have some kind of fit?” McCoy suggested.

Spock thought on it. “Possibly.”

“And there’s one other thing,” McCoy said, coming over to murmur to Spock through the bars. “How will you know when to break out of the trance when the time is right? Can you hear me when you’re unconscious?”

Spock thought on that. Coming to a logical conclusion seconds later. 

“We could form a temporary mind link. That way you could convey information to me while I was in the trance.”

“… Like a mind meld?” McCoy asked. 

“That would be a part of it, yes.” Spock said. 

McCoy bit his lip, gaze falling to the floor. Looking a little flustered for a moment. Spock watched on.

“Would that be a problem, Doctor? I will not perform a meld without your consent.” 

“No, it’s… It’d be fine. I’m just-I’m private, you know? Don’t want your hobgoblin hands all over my memories or anything.” McCoy teased, covering his discomfort. Spock raised an eyebrow.

“I assure you, my hands will remain where they ought to, far from your memories.” He said dryly. 

“Okay.” McCoy said, mostly to himself then looked up at Spock, shrugging awkwardly. “Ok, sure, let’s do that.”

“Are you certain Doctor?”

“Yes! Damnit, let’s just get this out of the way.” Bones grumbled as he pressed himself closer to the bars. “Do it now, before I lose my nerve.”

Spock nodded then turned to face the Doctor. He placed his fingers on the Doctor’s meld points, repeating the mantra he had learnt at birth and feeling the buzz of emotion under his sensitive fingers. Boiling just beneath the surface of McCoy’s skin.

‘We are one.’ He thought and as he thought it so did McCoy. Their minds collided like a storm and a dessert wind.

Spock reached for McCoy, the warm and controlled fingers of his mind gently brushing aside the electric impulsive emotions within the doctor’s ingenuous thoughts. Bones’ emotions, fears and memories washed around Spock, breaking against him like waves on a sandy shore before they were quickly swept away. Impossible to examine in their rush to return to the sea.

Bones was nervous to his very core, each spit fire thought rushing through him like lightening, as Spock attempted to tie their minds together with invisible links. Like trying to wrap gossamer threads around a kicking prisoner.

‘Doctor,’ Spock projected, without response, ‘Leonard.’ He thought softer, conveying warmth and security. ‘Calm your mind.’

Bones’ thoughts stilled, their rapid whirling halted for a moment before they began again, albeit slower, trying to handle the invasion of Spock’s presence there. The words ‘Easy for you to say-think-say?’ Echoing across Spock’s subconscious.

Mirth rippled through the link and Spock felt McCoy’s surge of affection at the reaction, stronger than Spock would have imagined it would be.

‘I need you to-‘ Spock tried to convey his thoughts through feelings, he projected the binding of two pieces of rope into one, of two bodies of water meeting. 

McCoy countered with images of skin knitting back together, of holes in old jeans being sewn back together and two mouths touching gently. 

At the last image their bond cemented and their first unified mental conversation was as follows.

‘Please don’t read into that last one too much.’ McCoy thought, embarrassment surging through their new connection, then surprise, trepidation, bewilderment. ‘Wow, this is suddenly very clear.’

‘The link has been made.’ Spock returned, more comfortable now, in the calming seas of McCoy’s mind and able to offer more of the warm winds of his own, brushing against the edges of the human’s gently. ‘When we touch we will be able to communicate through thought like this and with projected images.’

‘… That’s…’ McCoy couldn’t find a word, his mind flicked through a thousand images. In Spock’s mind’s eye, he smiled.

‘Fascinating?’

‘… Fascinating.’ McCoy’s mind hesitantly pushed closer to Spock’s examining his thoughts and feelings more closely, Spock allowed the slight invasion. The way he allowed the small human gestures and touches that McCoy sometimes initiated without thought. ‘This is amazing, why would you ever communicate any other way? I could spend years studying this.’

‘It is intimate Doctor.’ 

‘Yeah.’ McCoy’s mind conjured images of himself from Spock’s point of view, thoughts offered to the doctor on a whim from Spock as he touched inquisitively at Spock’s mind. ‘Wow, do I really look like that to you?’ 

‘Like what, Doctor?’ 

‘Like…’ McCoy thought of an old man, bent in a hospital bed, silhouette familiar and withered with age. With it came so much grief that Spock wrapped his own thoughts, soothingly, around the thought. Gently brushing it away and replacing it with images of McCoy in the medical bay, rolling his eyes and smiling fondly and Spock’s quiet appreciation of his strange human sense of humour. 

McCoy’s mind trembled, another surge of strong emotion, difficult to comprehend, blinding Spock through the link, just as powerful as the grief, if not more. 

‘Spock that’s-‘ 

Suddenly, the moment was shattered, as Spock was bodily pulled from McCoy. Their link vanished and Spock found himself on his back in his cell. The Doctor was out of view replaced by a bulky Orion holding a phaser over Spock and glaring down at him. 

Spock sucked in a deep gulp of air, mental anguish and pain at the sudden separation of the fresh link driving all the air from his lungs.

In the other cell, the Doctor recovered faster. He stood up, flustered, sweating and breathing hard. 

“What are you doing? Why did you shoot him?”

Spock looked down and noticed the singed mark on his chest from where he had definitely been shot. He blinked, the physical pain nothing to the throbbing ache of his mind. He was still unable to speak.

The Orion turned his phaser on the Doctor, whose eyes barely glanced at it, fists balled at his side and clearly prepared to risk phaser fire to stand up for his friend. 

“Touch telepathy is forbidden in the vaults,” The Orion said, voice like gravel, “We don’t want you plotting.”

Spock risked opening his eyes, the pain difficult to push down, before he looked over at McCoy, whose eyes dropped to Spock. He nodded minutely once. Then closed his eyes again and slipped, deeply, into a healing trance…


	3. Chapter 3

‘Spock…’ A voice called. From very far away. Spock was atop a great dune, in meditation, engaging, tenderly, with every cell and nerve in his body. Examining and diverting energy and attention to all that was tired or sore. 

‘Spock.’ The voice whispered again, like wind whistling past the Vulcan. Ruffling his hair.

‘Spock, please wake up.’

In front of Spock, Bones appeared, the sands of Spock’s minds drifting past the vision naturally, as if he had been standing there since the beginning of time. Spock stared at McCoy, then recalled the purpose of his trance.

Seconds later, he opened his eyes.

Bones was above him, looking more ruffled and tired than Spock remembered and in an entirely new place. A jailers medical bay, private room, by the look of things. Spock blinked, then looked left and right. Unable to hear, see or smell anyone else in the room. He slowly sat up, noticing that his wrists and ankles were shackled to his bed. Bones watched him, a hand placed gently at the centre of his back. Like he expected Spock to pass out at any moment.

Spock raised a brow at that. He was, in fact, more rested than he had any right to be in their current situation.

“Doctor,” Spock said, “What is the situation?” He asked.

“The situation’s changed.” McCoy said, smiling without humour, “You were out for 12 hours. I’ve been trying to reach you but they wouldn’t let me touch you. Said you needed to sleep it off. They only just let me in the room because I’ve been doing some work for them on the side.”

Spock frowned, “Work?” 

“There’s an Orion flu going around their ship.” McCoy wiped some sweat from his brow, looking under the weather himself. “It’s not contagious for humans-or Vulcans-as far as I can tell. But half the crew has come down with it. They don’t have the facilities to control it. I’ve been cobbling together vaccines like a kid trying to shape porcelain with a hammer for the past day.”

Spock was surprised at McCoy’s actions, though it quickly passed. The good doctor had taken an oath to heal the sick and injured, even in circumstances as dire as the one they found them in he remained honest and true to that.

Spock wondered if, in Bones’ position, he would do the same.

Seeming to read the Vulcan’s thoughts, even without their link, Bones smiled wryly.

“I’m not a complete angel, Mr Spock, some of these Orions have been slipping up and giving me information on the progress of our rescuers. Apparently Captain Durak has contacted Star Fleet with a ransom for our return. The Enterprise is the closest ship and I don’t doubt that soon enough it will appear.”

Spock would have smiled, if it were in his nature, as it was Bones’ had been checking the cut behind his ear (now fully healed) and the surge of humour reached the other all the same through the light contact. McCoy’s cheeks went red at the sudden alien feeling and Spock dropped his eyes.

“Apologies,” He said quietly. He would have to guard his emotions even more closely around the Doctor until their link was severed.

“It’s alright.” Bones replied. But kept his hands to himself. He turned around and picked up a tray with a small amount of food and some water on it. 

“Rations, we don’t get a lot, but I sweet talked the chef into giving us-whatever this is.” He pointed at a portion of yellowish mush on the corner of the tray. Picking up one of two spoons and poking at it tentatively. He put a spoonful of it into his mouth. Then frowned, scrunching up his nose.

“… Well, it’s not as bad as I thought it would be.”

It was then that he seemed to notice that Spock wasn’t eating-and then suddenly remembered the other’s hands were bound by his sides, rather awkwardly. 

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t think.” McCoy said, “Do you want me to-I mean I could try to cut them with the knife, if you want? It’s plastic, but-well.”

“That is alright, Doctor.” Spock said. “However, if you would be so kind as to allow me some of your water it would be much appreciated.”

“Yeah, of course.” Bones said, putting down the food and picking up the cup of water. He held it to Spock’s lips and tipped it backward, far more skilled at the task than anyone else would be in a similar situation due to his professionalism as a Doctor. Only a small amount was spilled which Spock was forced to lick from his lips. 

The Doctor pointedly looked away.

“Thank you, Doctor.” 

“… I’m working on scavenging a scalpel or something,” The Doctor murmured as he ate. “So I can cut you loose when the time is right.”

Spock nodded, “Do not endanger yourself unnecessarily Doctor, it may be that we will be rescued without having to engage in a fight.”

Bones snorted and Spock himself wondered if maybe the logic of his last sentence wasn’t completely right.

\--

The next chapter of their incarceration was a tense one. Spock spent most of it in sick bay, pretending to be under the influence of the Orion flu while he carefully broke free of his restraints. Doctor McCoy acted as chief medical officer, vaccinating and saving the lives of countless Orions aboard the very vessel they were imprisoned on.

However, when Spock was found out for faking his illness and slipping his bonds during a routine check he was sent back to the brig, while McCoy was to be kept in the medical bay. 

Their hours spent in each other’s company was drastically reduced and by the end of the third day of their capture Bones ambled down to where Spock sat, eyes closed and deep in meditation, collapsing against the bars of the Vulcan’s cell.

“Negotiations are breaking down,” McCoy said in greeting. “Starfleet is refusing to meet their demands, even if Jim is fighting for us. The price is too steep and we’re apparently in Klingon space. If the Enterprise comes here they might spark a war.”

“A transporter beam, then?” Spock asked, crossing to the edge of his cell where McCoy sat, his side leant entirely into the bars. The same irrational urge to touch crossed Spock’s mind and he put it aside. While McCoy sighed.

“Apparently the Orions and Starfleet officials can’t agree on who to transport where and Durak is quickly growing tired of the whole thing. I feel like he thought this was going to be a lot simpler than it is turning out to be.”

“There are many complicated regulations regarding kidnapping.” Spock replied. McCoy sighed again, deeply in response. “You look tired Doctor, have you slept?”

“Not since we arrived, if you count being gassed unconscious sleeping.”

“I do not.” Spock said quietly. 

McCoy shrugged. “Guess not then.”

Spock frowned, he had done nothing but sit idle the entire affair. He felt bad for the Doctor, who had to shoulder so many burdens alone. 

“I’ve tried talking them into letting you be my assistant but they don’t trust me.” Bones said after a few moments silence. 

Spock entertained an image of himself in Nurse Chapel’s uniform for a moment before discarding the strange visual. “No doubt they fear we will attempt to escape together.”

“They’re using you as a bargaining chip against me,” McCoy growled, with little heart. “They threaten you when I don’t comply. It’s driving me crazy. Like I’m not healing their sick without the threats anyway!”

Spock instinctively reached through the bars then, the instinct to initiate a link much stronger at close quarters. He touched McCoy’s wrist, above the fingers which would be misconstrued as inappropriate or romantic and projected his sympathy through the link.

McCoy started at the strong sensation at first, eyes widening and flinching away from Spock slightly. Before he noticed where they touched. He settled back against the bars seconds later. Closing his eyes.

‘I’m exhausted.’ McCoy thought. Images of all the sick Orions filtering through his mind and the violent, patronising glares of the male and female Orions who watched him work. Threatening and imposing, daring him to make a mistake. Letting him know exactly what would happen to him and to Spock if he attempted to poison or harm any of the crew. Female Orion pheromones filling him with bursts of awkward, erotic energy and then leagues of fatigue leaving his mind and body ravaged.

‘I am not surprised,’ Spock responded. He soothed the memories away, like a breath of air brushing dirt from a page. McCoy sighed, in and out, appreciatively. 

‘I could get used to this,’ The Doctor thought, vulnerably. Memories of times when he had been equally stressed flicking, rapidly, through his mind. He quickly dropped the thought, apologetically. ‘Sorry, that was rude-I don’t want you to have to take care of me, Spock.’

‘Doctor,’ Spock thought, wrapping the warmth of his memories of the Vulcan sun around McCoy, dousing his insecurities with its comfort. ‘There is no need to be embarrassed.’

‘I just-if you could have this-all the time with Jim-‘ Strange and confusing passions passed through McCoy, which Spock did not inspect too closely out of respect for the man. ‘… Why wouldn’t you two be connected like this all the time?’

Spock reflected on that, on his friendship with his Captain and their resulting link. One of the strongest and strangest he had ever had or, indeed, ever would in his life. He remembered also the golden, sun-like warmth of their link and the easy way in which they had complemented one another when melded. The sun and the dessert, united, like they were naturally meant to be.

McCoy witnessed these thoughts and the storm of his own emotions threatened again. Their link growing tremulous. Jealousy, anguish and shame lancing through from the Doctor’s side. Spock was confused by the reaction, but ceased his reflection and concentrated on delicately projecting the contentment he had felt earlier. 

‘The Link is not the same.’ He finally thought. ‘It is like comparing the night to the day. Both have their own significance.’ He conjured up a mental image of the way he visualised McCoy’s mind, the storm, the lightening, rolling across the dessert of his own. It was transfixing, like opposites meeting, like electric currents colliding. He thought.

McCoy’s negative emotions quietened, replaced with awe.

‘… I don’t want it to end.’ McCoy thought, so simply and honestly that as soon as he thought it Spock sensed his wish to take it back. His uncertainty and embarrassment on being dependent on the link between them for calm and serenity in the face of his problems threatening his pride.

Spock wondered how a man with so much compassion could so brutally tear apart his own serenity with doubt so quickly. He quietened the other’s mind again. Conjuring between them the lulling sound of light wind on soft sand.

‘It will not,’ Spock assured him, ‘Sleep now. I will wake you if someone approaches.’ 

‘But I’m on the floor,’ McCoy said. Their shared world changing for a moment as McCoy opened his eyes in the cell, gazing at Spock who knelt in front of him while he remained, slumped, against the bars. ‘I’ll wake up with a bad neck.’

‘Lie down then,’ Spock responded and McCoy agreed, slowly lying himself down on the floor beside Spock, staring at the other all the while as Spock stared back. Their experience a strange one as both saw the other through each other’s eyes.

“You’re not going to watch me sleep, are you?” McCoy murmured. His statement spoken and thought simultaneously, his human mind confusing the two.

“No.” Spock replied.

McCoy smiled, tiredly and closed his eyes. 

‘Liar,’ he projected through the link, seeing himself through Spock’s eyes.

‘You are not yet asleep, Doctor.’

‘A convenient loop hole.’ McCoy thought, before dropping into a warm, deep, sleep.

\--

Spock broke free from the Doctor’s mind once he was successfully dreaming. Letting out a long breath that was almost a sigh and taking a moment to sort through the residue emotions left over from the link. 

He mediated for an hour or so to completely cleanse himself of the savage and passionate feelings he had been faced with and then studiously ignored the Doctor, wishing to be honest in his promise not to watch the other sleeping. 

However after an hour of carefully counting the small indentations in the ceiling of his cell Spock found nowhere left to look but at the sleeping Doctor. Breathing quietly and sleeping deeply, on the floor in the front of the Vulcan’s cell.

He didn’t look away until an hour later. When he heard the steps of an Orion guard coming to check on them. He reached for McCoy, pressing his fingers to the other’s wrist and waking him as gently as he could. McCoy returned to conscious groggily, disorientated even in their linked state. Spock quickly drew away from him once the other was properly awake. Feigning sleep by the opposing wall.

“Get up,” The Orion ordered rudely. McCoy groused at him, grumbling and rose to his feet. Spock listened to them intently. 

“Alright, alright, geez.” McCoy said bitterly.

“You are to come with me at once.” The Orion said, the sound of him making a grab for McCoy made something unknown and dark in Spock’s stomach clench.

“Hey now, there’s no need to get grabby, what’s going on?”

“You are needed in the Medical Bay,” The Orion responded.

“I’ve been needed in the Medical Bay since the second I got here.” McCoy barked, “Why’s it so important right now?”

There was the sound of something heavy connecting with something soft and McCoy gasped in pain. Spock was on his feet before he had made the logical conclusion to do so. He grabbed the Orion through the bars, where he had a hold of the Doctor and pinched the nerve between neck and shoulder before the Orion even knew what was going on.

The Orion guard dropped to the floor like a rock, while McCoy could only stare. Still grasping his stomach where the guard had punched him. 

“Goodness, Spock,” He gasped. Bent still from the force of the Orion blow. “Quick thinking.”

“You provided the perfect opening, Doctor.” Spock said, pushing down any anger that may have affected his decision.

McCoy grimaced, “Happy to help.”

“Indeed,” Spock said, “Perhaps you could assist me further by checking our friend for keys to this cell?”

“Absolutely.” Bones said. He quickly flipped the man and went through his things, coming up with the master key moments later. He grinned at Spock, then unlocked the cell door, swinging it open. Spock stepped out and the pair stood opposite one another, free, for the first time in almost four days.

Spock felt strangely sentimental.

“We should lock him in,” McCoy said, “Before he wakes up.”

“A logical idea, Doctor.” Spock said, lip quirking in a smile.

McCoy raised an eyebrow at Spock, but Spock saw the smile he seemed to have always missed before their link. Their humorous moment was not at all affected by the rough dragging and tossing of the Orion guard into his new cell. 

\--

Their next move wasn’t so easy.

Between McCoy’s knowledge of the ship and Spock’s Vulcan hearing they managed to make their way to the cargo bay unapprehended. Once there however they were confronted with Orion escape pods and little to no knowledge of the interface.

“Come on Spock!” McCoy whispered desperately, “You’re the genius, work it out!”

“A genius I may be, Doctor,” Spock said, “But our lives rely on the safe flying of this vessel.”

“In order to fly this vessel you first need to open its door, Mr Spock!” Bones snapped.

“An astute observation,” Spock quipped back.

“That’s enough.” Another voice chimed in.

Spock and the Doctor turned around. Before them, the female Orion, Velia, stood. Behind her, a team of five Orion guards, all holding weapons, flanked her.

Spock dropped the tool he had been working with and McCoy swore colourfully.

“I am surprised you made it this far,” Velia said. “It is further than any others.”

“Thanks.” Bones replied sarcastically. Spock raised an eyebrow at his friend, who had subconsciously inched himself in front of Spock. As if trying to shield him from the inevitable phaser fire coming.

“However your adventure ends here,” The woman said. “My Captain, Durak, has fallen ill to the sickness aboard this ship. You alone, Doctor, can cure him.”

“Oh, yeah?” McCoy said, “Or what?”

The female turned her weapon on Spock. McCoy sucked in a breath.

“… Negotiations with your Federation as they are is tremulous. Perhaps if there was only one life to barter with it would go quicker.” She murmured.

McCoy’s eyes darted between her weapon and Spock. Spock did not flinch under her gaze. 

“Would your Captain agree?” Spock asked her.

She frowned, darkly, “He is in no state to comment.”

“I’ll help you.” McCoy interrupted. “But you can’t injure him, or me, you have to promise me that.”

The woman did not drop Spock’s gaze, eyes fierce. The Vulcan did not doubt her conviction. Moments later however she turned to the Doctor and nodded.

“You will not be harmed,” She said, “As long as my Captain is restored to health.”

McCoy nodded and they were led out of the room and back to the Medical Bay...


	4. Chapter 4

Spock was allowed to sit just outside of McCoy’s operating room. His hands bound behind his back. Flanked on both sides by Orion slavers. While just in front of him the Orion Commander, Velia, watched through two way glass as the Doctor worked.

Two male Orion medics were inside the room with the Doctor, following his instructions as he concocted hypos to ease the Orion Captain’s symptoms. Completely focused on the task at hand as he worked, showing no signs of unease or doubt as he moved around the unfamiliar medical bay.

Spock couldn’t help but admire his professionalism. For all his emotional outbursts and passionate stubbornness the Doctor showed no sign of fear or hesitation where lesser men would have been immobilized.

The Orion woman, Velia, had her arms crossed firmly across her front, entire body language tense as they watched on. 

An hour after the procedure had started the Orion Captain, Durak, began to stir. 

McCoy had a hand on the Orion’s shoulder and helped him sit up, offering him a cup of water which the tall, green man took. 

Velia’s body language changed completely, as she stepped up to the glass. Her relief and pleasure visible in every angle. 

Spock imagined that there was more to the pair than the chain of command. 

\--

Even the Doctor’s kindness, however, did not immediately improve their situation. Indeed, mere hours after the Captain’s full recovery Doctor McCoy and Spock were returned to the brig, where they remained for hours. Awaiting their fate.

This time, it was Spock’s turn to pace. 

“We will have to attempt another escape.” Spock said, “The Enterprise may soon be ordered to leave this space and us, to our fate.”

“I can’t believe that.” McCoy said, “You and I are two of the most valued officers in the fleet, if I don’t say so myself. There’s no way Starfleet would abandon us.”

“If we truly are in Klingon Space, Doctor. They may have no choice.”

McCoy thought on that. 

“… Alright, we have to escape, how are we going to do that?”

Spock opened his mouth, the beginning of a plan forming before an Orion guard turned the corner and approached their cell meaningfully. Weapon in hand.

McCoy backed into the corner of his cell, closest to Spock, while the Vulcan did the same. Their fingers brushed accidentally with the movement. 

The Orion stopped in front of the Doctor’s cell. She was a female with short, dark hair framing a handsome face. Her uniform showing her as a middle ranking official (or as much as one could be on a slaver’s ship).

Her gaze flickered between the Doctor and the Vulcan. As if she hadn’t yet made up her mind about her actions. Spock watched on in surprise as she pulled two long slavers jackets from a bag over her shoulder and threw them into their cells. 

“Put these on.” The female said. “We don’t have much time.”

Spock and McCoy shared a glance, Spock’s fingers unconsciously wrapped around the Doctor’s wrist, his uncertainty flaring through the link. But the Doctor did not falter. Leaving their place in the corner and hurriedly throwing on the jacket. Spock followed suit. 

While they were doing so the Orion was unlocking the doors to their cells. She waited for the pair of them then gestured for them to follow her.

“Where are we going?” McCoy asked, as the woman led them through winding corridors. Stopping them every now and then so groups of guards could pass by. Spock was watching her diligently, prepared to leap into action at any moment.

“To the hangar bay,” She said, “My second is waiting for us there. We’ve come to release you.”

“Release us?” McCoy asked, “Why?”

The woman looked at McCoy over her shoulder, beautiful eyes fixing him with a deep stare.

 

“You healed my partner when they were infected with the Orion Influenza. If it weren’t for you, they would be dead.” She slipped behind a pylon and urged the two to do the same as guards marched by them. Once they were gone she continued. “For that, I owe you a debt.”

McCoy shared a look with Spock, who just raised an eyebrow. They followed the woman to the hangar, a few minutes later, an alarm rang out across the ship. 

Their escape discovered the Orion quickly ran to an awaiting transport, inside of it another Orion woman awaited, she gestured for them to hurry, long dark hair swept over her shoulders. McCoy and Spock quickly leaped inside, followed by their rescuer. 

“Ma’vel,” The Orion said, “The latch! Quickly, I’ve over ridden the security lock out but we have only 3 minutes.”

The short haired Orion, Ma’Vel, quickly swept the latch closed behind them, while the long haired Orion threw switches and plunged their vessel into the air. Spock and McCoy strapped themselves into two seats behind the Orion women, who were quickly preparing the ship for space. 

“Is this vessel capable of warp drive?” Spock asked, as they lifted off. Beside Spock, McCoy was quickly losing colour and grasping the arm of his chair in a white knuckled grip.

“Only Warp 4,” Ma’Vel said. “If the Jaquel gives chase we will not be able to outrun them for long. Which is why I am relying on your Enterprise to pick us up, with this.”

Ma’Vel pulled a communicator from inside her bag. Handing it to Spock who took it and quickly flipped it open. Checking to see if it was still in working order. 

“This is functional, I will attempt to hail the Enterprise once we have safely exited the hangar and have left Klingon Space.”

“If we make it that far,” McCoy mumbled under his breath as their vessel whizzed towards the hangar door, which was slowly opening. Behind them the ships alarm blared and Orions were appearing in air tight suits, waving madly.

“We will make it.” The pilot said, Ma’Vel reaching across and taking the woman’s hand. “Hold on.”

McCoy, who was already holding as tightly as science could allow, threw a terrified look at Spock, who reached out and touched the other’s wrist, sending confidence through their link. McCoy closed his eyes as they were jettisoned through the mouth of the hangar door and into space. 

“Engaging the warp drive,” The pilot said, their ship suddenly burst forward, throwing them all backwards with the force of it. Light streaming across the bow of their vessel. McCoy grabbed Spock’s arm as they were rattled within the stream. Breathing shallowly. His fear dancing along the nerves of Spock’s arm.

Spock remained calm, projecting that serenity onto McCoy, who was quickly growing hysterical. 

‘I hate space,’ McCoy shot through the link, ‘I hate the silence of it, I don’t want to die out here, I’ve seen what it looks like, I don’t want to go like that.’

‘You will not.’ Spock responded firmly, his resolution absolute. McCoy turned to look at Spock, eyes wide and fearful. Spock increased his grip on the other and repeated the thought. The Doctor began to calm. 

“We are out of range of the Jaquel’s hailing device.” The pilot said. “Dropping out of warp drive and into Federation Space in 3 minutes.”

“Understood.” Spock said, taking out the communicator. He fiddled with the dials, attempting to increase the range of the device. Beside him, McCoy did his best not to have a panic attack, while the Orions spoke quietly amongst themselves.

The time passed quickly and soon Ma’Vel turned to Spock, nodding at him.

“Now is the time, Vulcan.” She said.

Spock nodded once, then flipped open the device.

“This is Commander Spock of the USS Enterprise, come in Enterprise.”

He released the button, waiting for a response. For a minute or so there was nothing. They drifted, completely alone, in empty space. Spock tried again.

“I repeat, this is Commander Spock of the USS Enterprise, if you can hear this message, please respond.”

Silence.

In the piloting chair the long haired Orion turned to her partner, who was still holding the other’s hand tightly. The short haired Orion, Ma’Vel, was watching her scanners intensely. 

“There are some vessels in pursuit of us.” Ma’Vel said quietly. “We will have to engage the cloaking device.”

“But that’s a prototype,” The pilot responded, “It may not work.”

“It will have to.” Ma’Vel replied. Flicking a few switches. 

Quite suddenly the cabin inside of the vessel went dark. 

“Is that normal?” McCoy asked. 

“Yes Doctor,” Ma’Vel replied. “Tamir is an engineer. She built this device herself based on Romulan technology. However to power a device this efficient all superfluous systems have to be disengaged.”

“How long will it last?” Spock asked.

The pilot, Tamir, shrugged. “An hour, maybe. I haven’t had a chance to test it properly.”

“That doesn’t fill me with confidence,” The Doctor said. Tamir turned to the Doctor, smiling.

“Despite all odds, you saved my life, Doctor. Now allow me to do the same.” She said.

McCoy squirmed under the praise and Spock suppressed a smile. 

Then suddenly the enormous body of the slaver ship, the Jaquel, appeared in front of them.

\--

“My God,” McCoy whispered into the silence of the cabin. “It’s massive.”

Spock stared in awe as the giant ship sailed just in front of them. Gliding past where they sat, invisible, just out of its reach. On the control board in front of the ship, chatter picked up on the radio. Ma’Vel turned the volume up slightly, listening in on the conversation. 

“… is the Jaquel, return the stolen cargo and we will be merciful. Resist capture and we will destroy you inside of your ship. This is the Jaquel…”

“Not on your life,” Ma’Vel murmured, turning off the radio. “You said this cloaking device lasted an hour, right?”

Tamir, looking a little less smiley now, shrugged non committedly, eyes fixed on the Jaquel as it soared past like a giant, hungry, monster. 

“I hope so.”

In Spock’s hands, the communicator suddenly whirred. Spock flipped it open, through it, the tinny voice of the Captain rang out. 

“Spock! Spock is that you?”

Spock almost smiled and McCoy grinned, leaning over toward Spock.

“Affirmative Captain,” Spock said quietly, “Doctor McCoy, myself and two of our rescuers are currently evading capture, in a small cloaked vessel at the following coordinates.” He typed in the coordinates Ma’Vel provided, sending them through. “Our Captor’s ship, the Jaquel, is right on top of us.”

There was another silence, before the Captain’s voice came over the radio again. 

“We’re coming for you Spock, Bones, sit tight.”

“Please be wary Captain.” Spock said. “These Orions are not to be underestimated.”

“They’re in Federation Space now, Mr Spock.” The Captain replied, “Might as well make them feel welcome.”

There was silence and Spock closed his communicator, sharing a look with McCoy who was still white as a ghost. From the front, Tamir quietly raised their shields. 

A quarter of an hour later the Enterprise in all its glory burst onto the scene. The Jaquel barely had time to raise their shields before the Enterprise had locked on. Two bursts of phaser fire were shot across its front. Over the interstellar radio, the Captain’s voice rang out. 

“Starship Jaquel, this is Captain James T Kirk of the Enterprise, we have fired two warning shots across your bow. Surrender now or we will do whatever is necessary to bring you to justice.”

There was silence for a moment, where everyone within the cabin held their breath. Across the radio the voice of the Orion Captain, Durak responded.

“Captain Kirk. Your crewman are still in our custody, if you fire on us we will execute them.”

The Captain’s response was quick and confident. “A nice bluff, Captain. However it is impossible for you to execute my men, as they are currently on board our ship. As well as two of your Orion crew, who aided them in escaping.”

There was another silence, before the Jaquel, in a burst of light and colour, suddenly shot into Warp space. Escaping the formidable might of the Enterprise’s wrath. Inside of their escape vessel the tiny crew let out relieved cries of joy. The two Orions sharing a brief kiss while McCoy grinned, turning to Spock with relief.

“I can’t believe it.” McCoy said. “It’s over.”

“Almost, Doctor.” Spock said. His communicator buzzed. 

“Captain,” Spock responded.

“How do you like that, Mr Spock?” The Captain said, his smile almost audible through the tinny transmission. 

“Damn brilliant!” Bones cried, leaning across to speak into the communicator. “Now quit celebrating and get us on board, would you?”

“Absolutely, Doctor.” The Captain replied. “Preparing docking bay for your arrival.”

The two Orions exchanged a worried look, but guided their vessel safely into the bowels of the Enterprise. McCoy was beaming the entire time, alternating between grinning at the familiar lights of the Enterprise and at Spock, who sat back, content to watch his euphoria. 

When the Doctor suddenly reached out and took Spock’s hand, he didn’t pull away.

\--

Their reunion with the Captain and the Crew of the Enterprise was an emotional one. They had been gone almost five days and the Captain almost glowed with relief. He pulled McCoy into a short hug, patting him on the back firmly while the Doctor smiled. Then he took Spock’s arms in both his hands and squeezed, the equivalent of a hug between them. His brown eyes creased at the corners with visible signs of worry and exhaustion.

“I’m glad you’re safe.” He said to them both. “We’ve been working with Starfleet big wigs to try and get you back through the proper channels since we knew you’d been taken! We tried to follow that Romulan ship but she took a path we couldn’t lock onto. Once you went into Klingon space we… I thought-“

The Captain bit his lip. Not wanting to get too emotional in front of the crew, who were gathered around and practically bouncing on the balls of their feet with excitement themselves.

The Doctor stepped forward, patting Jim’s arm.

“We’ll talk about it later.” He said and Jim nodded. Behind them the Orion couple, Ma’Vel and Tamir stood awkwardly. Spock and McCoy stepped aside so that Jim could move forward and greet them properly. He introduced himself and thanked them for their service.

“Thanks is unnecessary,” Ma’Vel said, her hand locked with her partner’s. “We owed your Doctor a great debt. Now we are even.”

Jim smiled, “Even so, I want to help you, I don’t know your plan but it is very possible that Starfleet will attempt to apprehend you. As you were members of the Jaquel’s crew.”

“We thought as much.” Tamir said. “We ask only that we are given a fair trial.”

“I can organise that.” Jim said. “For now, you are my guests. Allow me to get you settled.”

The Captain told his crew to take the women to some rooms where they could rest, then ordered Spock and McCoy to their quarters to rest themselves and arranged a debriefing in four hours’ time. The two quickly agreed and walked together in silence, back to their individual quarters.

Just before they reached the Doctor’s quarters McCoy paused. Stopping in the walk way. Spock stopped a step later, turning to the man with an eyebrow raised. The Doctor had a strange look on his face.

“So… We made it.” McCoy said.

“…Indeed.” Spock said.

The Doctor frowned, his gaze lifting from the floor insecurely before dropping again.

“The link between us-should we-I mean-is it broken?” He asked.

Spock thought on that, in the excitement of their rescue he had forgotten about it for a moment. But he still felt it’s presence between them. The ghosts of the Doctor’s emotions brushing at the edges of his mind. 

“It is still in place.” Spock said simply.

McCoy wrung his hands, looking up at Spock, before he took a step closer. 

“Should we break it?” He asked, “Is it bothering you?”

Spock shook his head. It didn’t bother him, it simply was. 

“Breaking the connection will require a great deal of energy.” Spock said slowly, “It would be better to wait until after we were better rested to attempt it.”

McCoy was watching Spock’s face carefully, as if searching for some emotion he could not find. Under the white lights of the Enterprise their link seemed different, more alien. Born of desperation in a different place where their fate was uncertain and time was short. 

Where intimacy didn’t have to be examined as closely or vulnerable moments be obsessed over as deeply.

“Doctor,” Spock said, guessing the other’s thoughts without touching him, “This link between us, it causes no harm, it does not have to be broken immediately.”

McCoy swallowed. One hand reaching for Spock without meaning to and touching the other man’s wrist. Spock did not shy away, though the action was a little inappropriate in such a public place.

‘I don’t know if I can sleep.’ McCoy thought, ‘Will you join me?’

Spock felt doubt, uncertainty, something stronger, emanating from his friend in powerful waves. This question seemed important, more important than any he had been asked before.

He decided, for once, to make a choice based on instinct, rather than logic.

‘Yes.’ He thought. 

Relief crashed through the link and McCoy visibly smiled, pulling Spock towards his quarters. The door closed behind them and the McCoy lay down, Spock lay out beside him, one finger pressed to the other’s wrist. 

McCoy barely thought, his emotions flowing from one to the other without direction and passing between their link like brushes of a summer breeze. Unhurried, unembarrassed. 

Within ten minutes lying side by side McCoy had fallen into a deep, peaceful, sleep.

Spock did not watch him sleep. 

Until of course, he did.

\--

McCoy slept for three hours. While Spock left the room to quickly shower, dress and write his report. Once the last hour before their debriefing approached Spock woke the Doctor gently. Who woke disorientated and confused by Spock’s presence for a moment before he recalled the events of earlier that night.

“My God, I must look terrible.” McCoy said groggily. He practically fell from his bed, still tired and sore. Spock caught him before he could damage himself, helping him upright. 

“Your exhaustion is evident, but understandable. I do not believe the Captain or anyone else will mention it.” Spock said as McCoy tiredly pulled out a fresh uniform and shucked his Orion jacket, hanging it over the back of a chair and rubbing his eyes.

“They better not,” He grumbled. He stopped in the doorway, squinting at Spock, “… How come you look so-“ He gestured widely.

Spock raised an eyebrow. “I returned to my quarters briefly while you slept to shower and change. As well as complete my report on our incarceration.”

“Oh, of course… Of course.” McCoy nodded stiffly and then tripped into the bathroom, swearing. Spock didn’t smile, but if he were on to he would have at that moment. “Don’t laugh at me, Spock!”

“I was not, Doctor.” Spock replied curtly.

“Not out loud.” McCoy grumbled, “But-you know.”

Spock contemplated that peculiar statement while McCoy got himself ready. Sending his report and catching up on paper work that had grown in his absence.

\--

Their debrief lasted almost two hours and by the end of it both Spock and the Doctor were flagging. Jim accepted Spock’s report and gave McCoy 24 hours to file his own as well as a few days off. 

They returned to their quarters, separating this time with a brush of fingers against wrists before both retiring to their rooms for a well earned rest.

The Orions, Ma’Vel and Tamir were dropped off at a Starfleet base to await trial. The Captain, Spock and McCoy had given their account of events and their recommendations on their behalf. The day they left Doctor McCoy and Spock were present in the transporter room before the women beamed down.

Both stepped forward and pressed chaste kisses to the Doctor’s cheek, who coloured immediately and waved them off, grumbling. They parted on good terms and Spock kept in contact with them throughout their trial. 

They would remain friends for many years.

As for the relationship between Spock and the kind Doctor, many things remained as they had been. Though the link between them was not severed, even after their recovery. Neither spoke of it, though it weighed on Spock's mind at times. Sometimes igniting at a simple touch or stray brush of skin.

Still, it remained...

TBC


End file.
